Secrets in the Chamber
by Lea Anberlyn
Summary: Slash. HPDM. In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Secrets in the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** PG-13 (May go up later)

**Warnings:** Alternate 8th Year Fic.

**Summary:** In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...

**Author's Notes:** My first HP multi-parter! Haha, wish me luck.

* * *

Secrets in the Chamber

_Part One – Harry's Plan_

* * *

"Harry, we're worried about you." The words were said gently but Harry still grimaced.

Lifting his head from the parchment in front of him Harry regarded his friends silently. Hermione had the decency to look down, a slight blush covering her cheeks but Ron stared him straight in the eyes, his chin tilting up defiantly.

"You have to know mate but recently you've just been…well, _weird_."

Harry quirked an eyebrow in response but kept quiet. Things were getting pretty amusing after all.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione finally burst out, "You know we love you, and we'll support anything you want to do but…do you really want to destroy a part of Hogwarts?"

_Ah_. So that was what this was all about. Putting his quill down for a moment Harry crossed his hands in front of himself and turned to each of his friends in turn, trying to make his face look as serious as he felt. He could still feel the corner of his lip twitching just ever so slightly but other than that he thought he did pretty well.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" He countered, watching as Hermione's brows furrowed.

"But you love Hogwarts Harry," she finally said after a moments silence, Ron nodding his head next to her.

"Yeah," he added, "You've always called this place your first home. So why do you want to destroy your home?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't want to destroy all of Hogwarts," he stressed. "Just…parts of it. The parts that are…" He looked around, his eyes settling on the figure by the window. Dennis Creevey was curled up there, a small figure with such a heavy cloud of sadness around that he seemed weighed down by it all. Harry felt his heart ache just looking at him and let his eyes drift back to his friends again.

They both looked more understanding now and they looked at him sympathetically.

Harry bristled. He didn't want their sympathy – he didn't need it. They should save it to give to the Hogwarts students who did need it, the ones who every day had to know that their sister, or brother, or cousin had died _there_ , or been crushed by _that_ pillar or laid out in the Great Hall amongst all the other's who had died to save them.

It wasn't fair.

Hermione laid a hand on his arm, startling him out of his dark thoughts, "I understand – we understand," she corrected herself at Ron's gentle nudge, "But you can't just destroy part of Hogwarts – especially after all the effort it took Headmistress McGonagall and the other's to fix it."

Harry looked at her mulishly, "Well maybe they shouldn't have fixed it."

Hermione gave a sharp gasp of surprise and her look of sympathy turned to one of annoyance. "_Harry_."

"Well it's true," Harry interrupted her, knowing she was building herself up to a proper lecture by the look on her face and forestalling her. "People died here – right where we're standing." Ron looked down with a look of something like alarm flashing across his face. "Well, okay, not right here, but that Ravenclaw third year died over by the fireplace trying to help that first year student escape." He shuddered for a moment, "That first year has to look at that fireplace every day and remember that someone died for him. No kid should have to face that."

"So you want to what? Just blow up every fireplace in Hogwarts?" Ron snorted, "Good luck with that mate."

Harry shook his head, clenching his hands into fists before him. Why couldn't they understand? Why did _no one_ understand? He wasn't being unreasonable – he knew he wasn't. A few of the other students had even come up to him and given him a list of places where they knew friends and family had been killed. Places they wanted to forget but couldn't.

"I don't want to just blow parts of Hogwarts up – I want to replace them."

It was Hermione's turn to try and reason with him again. She sighed heavily before saying, "Harry we've been over this – Headmistress McGonagall and the other Professors already restored Hogwarts to how it was before the war."

Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

He jumped out of his chair, his voice rising as he spoke, "That's what I'm talking about! Why did they do that? Did they think we'd like it the same as it was before everything? Like we'd just go back to how we were before…before everything? Like we could just forget people died? Like we—" He trailed off. Not because Hermione and Ron were looking at him like he'd gone crazy, but because Dennis Creevy in the corner was crying.

He'd made Dennis cry.

Cursing himself Harry stumbled as he tried to escape from the Common Room, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from it all.

Damn it, why was nothing going right? Why had nothing gone right since the war?

As soon as they'd come back everything had just fallen apart and he had no idea how to fix it all. He thought he'd be helping when he joined the Restoration Effort, teaming up with his fellow students and the Professors to make Hogwarts as it had been.

But that had been wrong – he saw that now. He saw it every time a student skirted around a certain area on the floor, or averted their eyes away from a certain room, or avoided the Great Hall.

He knew that the students were thinner than they should be because they were missing meals – he also knew that the Houseelves did their best to make sure everyone was fed by leaving snacks everywhere. Hell he woke up every morning to find a fruit bowl by his head, but it wasn't right and something had to change.

So Harry had come up with his current plan. He would use his magic to demolish the parts of Hogwarts that students found distressing and then he would replace it – with something new that bore no resemblance to what it had been before. His first attempt had been in the Great Hall that morning when he'd used Reducto at the Gryffindor table. He'd managed to break apart half the plates and cutlery before Headmistress McGonagall had called him to her office.

She'd heard his story, reprimanded him, told him that he was under no circumstances to destroy anymore of Hogwarts and told him to leave.

She'd looked at him in disappointment.

Harry had locked himself away in his room for hours after that until Hermione and Ron had coerced him out into the Common Room. Then he'd started making his list.

He still had it clenched in his hand, the sweat on his palm making it stick to his skin.

Backing himself away into a corner between two suits of armour Harry took out his list, unrolling it and trying to straighten out the wrinkles his hand had caused. He'd written it all out in his best handwriting and he felt absurdly proud as he looked over it.

At the top was written, _'Harry Potter's Plan to Renovate Hogwarts'_. Under that was a list, not just of specific places, like the classrooms which he'd put at the top, but also statues and portraits. He was still unsure about the portraits but he knew for a fact that some of them had been instrumental in the war and not all of them had been fighting for the Good so…they needed to go.

At the very top of the page were just three words: 'Chamber of Secrets.'

He frowned as he looked at his own familiar scrawl. Underneath he'd written, 'High priority – place of Dark magic. Why the hell is it still here?'

He still didn't know the answer to that question. He'd asked McGonagall herself but she'd blown him off with vague mutterings about Old Magic and not upsetting the Balance.

Fuck the Balance. People didn't balance – they needed a place to grieve that wouldn't constantly draw on all their bad feelings and memories of the war. They needed…they needed…

They needed him.

With a sense of purpose filling him Harry rolled his parchment up again and tucked it safely away inside his cloak. He'd decided on his course long before that day. He'd known as soon as he'd crossed the threshold to the school that something was wrong with Hogwarts. Something just felt…off. He'd been there during the days when Hogwarts was mostly crumpled stones and he hadn't felt even the slightest hint that something was wrong but as soon as he'd come back…

It was like having a hundred spiders crawling all over him. He went to bed staring at the ceiling wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. Now he knew though – it wasn't him, it was everyone else that was wrong.

McGonagall was wrong to fix the school. Hermione was wrong to argue with him. Ron was wrong to side with Hermione. The teachers were wrong for not fighting with McGonagall when she said she was going to open the damned school again. The students were wrong for coming back.

Before he realised it he was almost running down the moving staircases, dodging the students still up and about, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He was panting when he made it the second floor and had to stop to rest, putting his hand against the wall and trying to regain control over his breathing. He was just about to move out when he heard a noise.

He plastered himself against the wall, not sure why he was trying to hide, just knowing he had to. He knew that voice after all; it was almost as familiar to him as his own. That obnoxious drawl that had haunted him through six years of school and beyond.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry still wasn't sure what he felt about the other boy now. He knew he shouldn't think of him as a boy though, they were both men now after all. They'd survived a war and come out of it, if not completely unscathed, at least still intact which was more than some of the other survivors could boast.

Trying to remain as quiet as possible Harry stretched his neck out, peering around the corner of the crevice he'd wedged himself into.

Malfoy stood there, hunched over in the middle of the corridor with his arms wrapped around himself. Harry wasn't sure what he was doing for a moment until he realised that Malfoy was shaking – and laughing.

It was a disturbing laugh, if only because no one was around to hear it except for Harry and Malfoy, Harry was certain, had no idea that he stood there.

Ragged blond hair fell into Malfoy's eyes and Harry was surprised to notice how unkempt it looked. He would always remember Malfoy's carefully slicked back hair. He and Ron had joked about it enough back in more innocent days. Now that hair was cut in jagged lines, as if someone had just one day decided to hack it away. Malfoy's eyes were dark and sunken into his face and he carried that look - the same look he shared with half of the student body, the one that had seen death and lived through it, the one that spoke of sleepless nights and terrible nightmares. Harry knew all about the Look because he'd seen it on his own face every time he had the courage to look in a mirror.

Malfoy had stopped laughing now and was instead stamping his foot into the ground over and over. He ground his heel down and spat on the floor before abruptly spinning around and leaving, passing by Harry without a glance.

He was left alone in the darkening corridor.

Without even thinking he made his way over to the area Malfoy had been standing. With a slight grimace on his face he bent down, picking up what Malfoy had been stomping on with two fingers and bringing it up to his line of eyesight.

It was a note, written by a shaking hand the words spiked around the small scrap of paper. The message wasn't eloquent but it didn't need to be to get a words across, they were fairly clear.

'Why did you return Malfoy? You should've been Kissed like the rest of those filthy Deatheaters!'

Snatching back his hand as though he'd been burnt by the parchment Harry watched as it fluttered back to the ground. He felt like grinding his foot into it too.

Pushing one hand into his hair Harry stared at the letter, a feeling something like despair bubbling up within him.

He'd never even thought about Malfoy.

And that thought confused him.

In all his years he'd never been able to forget Malfoy. He'd been one of those annoying constants in Harry's life, always just…_there_ and sneering away with his pointy nose in the air and his posse of simpering Slytherins around him. Harry had become so used to Malfoy in his life that he wasn't sure what he'd do if Malfoy wasn't there.

So why had he forgotten him?

He'd been so focused on the suffering of the students…but Malfoy was suffering too wasn't he? He was clearly being targeted by the other students, being made into a scapegoat. Why had no one thought about that?

It was just another reason to add to his ever growing list as to why the school should never have been reopened. That didn't explain why Malfoy had accepted the invitation though. He hadn't needed to come back, coming back as an Eighth Year had been optional. Some of them hadn't come back – Harry knew that quite a lot of the Slytherins had turned their nose up at the offer and gone off to Durmstrang. Some had even decided to go out and get jobs – and been accepted under 'special circumstances'.

So why had Malfoy come back?

It was a question that circled around his brain as he made his way slowly to the Chamber of Secrets. He crept into the girl's bathroom, noting Moaning Myrtle's absence with relief. He was still pondering the Malfoy Dilemma, becoming so distracted by it that he almost didn't realise that the Chamber was open.

That bought him up short.

The sink was gone and the pipe was there in full display. Harry was instantly on full alert, grabbing his wand out of his pocket and dropping into a crouch as he aimed his wand in every dark corner.

No one came though. Harry half expected Ron to jump out and yell 'Boo' at him and after a few moments he began to feel very silly indeed.

Glad no one had seen his brief moment of paranoia he straightened his back but kept his wand in his hand. He wasn't stupid after all.

He shuffled forwards, stopping when he was mere feet away the entrance and studied the area, looking for anything that might tell him just what the hell was going on. There was nothing though, nothing that stood out and yelled 'Dark!' As far as Harry could tell there was nothing amiss.

Except the Chamber of Secrets was open.

He dithered for a moment at the entrance, unsure whether to go back to the Common Room to fetch his friends. It would take a while but what if something was down there…

Scowling to himself Harry set his shoulders. He was bloody Harry Potter and he was not afraid of some dead snake. Gathering his courage Harry took a deep breath before throwing himself down the pipe.

The ride down was just as thrilling and terrifying as it had been when he'd been younger. Of course, he was older and taller now so the journey seemed a lot shorter and he landed, not on a hill of bones, but on a mattress.

Something was definitely not right.

Looking around warily Harry quickly scrambled off the mattress, dropping back into his crouch. His wand was already out and he quickly bit off a 'Lumos' aiming his wand all around him before pointing it forwards.

He felt almost disappointed when he encountered…well, nothing. The place actually looked like someone had tried their hardest to clean it. The bones were gone, the horrid smell of decay had been replaced by…He sniffed, was that _apple_?

Shaking his head in bewilderment Harry carried on his examination of the corridor. The pile of rubble had been removed – the rocks that had blocked his way back all those years ago had vanished.

Things were just getting weirder and weirder. He knew that Hermione and Ron had been down here but he seriously doubted they'd had time to do any spring cleaning.

Narrowing his eyes Harry continued onwards, fingers tightening around his wand as he finally made it to the Chamber itself.

He was – well, confused at what he saw.

There was another mattress on the floor with bed linen that had been neatly folded on top, along with a small desk and chair, a student's trunk and beside that, also neatly folded, was a student's uniform. A Slytherin, he realised when he saw the green tie on top.

So a Slytherin was – what? Having a sleepover in the Chamber of Secrets?

Harry felt like laughing at the absurdity of it all. The basilisk was right there…

He turned to look at it only to find it gone too. His feeling of unease steadily growing he walked over to the desk and started shuffling through the papers that had been placed on top of it. The name '_Draco Malfoy_' was written on each and every single one of them.

So Draco Malfoy was sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry grimly looked down at the papers in his hand. That wasn't right was it? Draco Malfoy was _living_ in the Chamber of Secrets.

Why though, was Harry's thought, had Malfoy fled here of all places? He was just about to nose through the other papers when he suddenly heard a sound.

Spinning round on his heel he came face to face with the furious grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Gulping Harry gave him a wary smile. "…Hi?"

"What the hell are you doing here Potter?" Malfoy demanded of him angrily, wand out and pointing directly at Harry's chest.

Harry made a big show of putting his wand back in his pocket, showing his palms to Malfoy as he raised his hands slowly.

"Look, I've put my wand away. I just wanted to, you know, talk."

Malfoy gaped at him. "You want to _talk_? Whatever the hell for?"

"I want to know what's going on here," he gestured to the bed and the desk and the trunk. "I wan to know what's going on with _you_."

"Well, I don't care for Share Time with Potter so you can just leave, now," Malfoy replied, almost spitting the words in Harry's face as he jabbed in his wand forwards. "Before I make you regret coming down here."

Harry backed away slowly, hands still raised. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving," he assured Malfoy, watching as that drawn face relaxed, just slightly. The wand stayed steadily on him though as he inched back towards the corridor.

It was only when Malfoy had become just a speck that Harry turned around again. He had so many questions and only the boy he was leaving behind could answer them.

Well, no matter. There was always tomorrow.

Grinning to himself Harry almost skipped back to his Common Room. He had maybe, just maybe, found another person to save.

And he couldn't wait to get started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Secrets in the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** PG-13 (May go up later)

**Warnings:** Alternate 8th Year Fic.

**Summary:** In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...

**Author's Notes:** My first HP multi-parter! Haha, wish me luck.

* * *

Secret's in the Chamber

_Part Two – Malfoy's Secret_

* * *

Later that night Harry lay in bed thinking over his new plan.

He'd known as soon as he'd seen Malfoy in the second floor corridor that he had to do something for the other boy. The pain and _fear_in his face had spoken to Harry's sense of justice. No one should be that afraid anymore. Not of anything – especially other students.

He just didn't know quite how to fix it all yet. He needed to get Malfoy out of the Chamber of Secrets – that at least was clear. No one should have to live in that dank place, not even Malfoy.

Frowning to himself Harry tried to remember the times he'd seen Malfoy in class that year. He'd been there – Harry was sure of it. He could just vaguely recall seeing that distinctive flash of blond hair out of the corner of his eye. So Malfoy had been attending his classes.

He just wasn't returning to his Common Room afterwards – why?

The word gnawed at Harry until he finally gave up, turning over in his bed and punching the pillow beneath him. He'd get no answers tonight and he would be useless in the morning if he didn't get any sleep soon.

He grinned to himself as he settled down to sleep. He needed his sleep – he had big plans for tomorrow after all.

* * *

Malfoy wasn't at breakfast the next morning.

The thought brought some disappointment but Harry shrugged it off as he grabbed some bacon for himself. He hadn't really expected Malfoy to be there after all. The other boy was probably still down in the Chamber. Harry wondered if the Houseelves knew he was down there – he hoped so. He hated the thought that Malfoy was down there slowly starving to death.

"Oi, mate," Ron said, nudging him in the ribs. Harry gave him a sideways glare before pointedly shoveling his bacon into his mouth and chewing slowly.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's antics, "Look, we just wanted to apologise, you know, for yesterday. We acted like right prats to you and that wasn't right."

Hermione leaned over the table, reaching out a hand to touch his. "We only want what's best for you Harry," she said earnestly, letting her hand drop when Harry continued frowning at them both. She sighed, "I just don't think that this…this plan you have is going to make you happy."

"It won't," Harry replied, enjoying their similar looks of bewilderment.

"Then why are you doing it? I mean, if you want a girl's attention there are better ways than destroying the cutlery," he tilted his head in Hermione's direction, "Trust me, I know."

Harry smirked at him, "Yeah you just leave them in a forest with another guy."

Ron smacked him, mock glaring at him but it only lasted a moment before all three of them were laughing.

It felt good to laugh, like a weight that had been pulling him down had lifted, if only slightly. He knew his friends loved him – they showed it everyday just by putting up with his crap. He didn't envy them sometimes having to deal with him – but they did and he'd always be grateful to them for that.

Smiling at the two of them fondly Harry let their conversation flow over him as he eyes scanned over the heads in the Great Hall.

It made his heart ache to see all the empty spaces. The ones that should been filled with those who had died, and the ones that belonged to those who couldn't bear to look around and not see them. Once more Harry was hit with a feeling wrongness and he tilted his head up to look at the ceiling.

Clouds roiled above him and he saw the occasional flash of lightning but inside the Great Hall no sound could be heard of the storm outside. It was disconcerting and he immediately looked down, putting down his knife and fork and standing up from the table.

"Just going to get some air," he told his friends as he hurried away, ignoring their calls after him.

He slipped through the door and stopped just outside, taking in deep breaths and trying to get his emotions under control. He knew his hands were shaking so he stuffed them into his pockets out of sight. No one could know how close Harry Potter had come to losing control of his magic again.

It was happening more frequently recently, he'd notice something about the castle was off and his magic would rise within him as if to fight it away. It had scared him to begin with but as long as he could get some distance the feeling would fall away.

He'd been confused last night when his magic hadn't reared its ugly head. It was only this morning that he'd realised he'd already been so edge last night in the Chamber of Secrets, his magic had been fully under his control for the first time since the war had ended. He'd given it a purpose – to protect him and hunt out enemies – and it had done so. He'd compared it to a sleepy kitten that night, all satisfied and curled up inside him purring.

The war was over though – he didn't need his magic to defend him anymore.

He wondered if that was why he was so set on changing Hogwarts. After all, what better exercise could his magic ask for than tearing down a castle filled with ancient magic?

Harry laughed to himself weakly as he straightened up, giving a brief look to his hands to confirm that, yes, they had stopped shaking.

Grabbing his book bag from where he'd dropped it on the floor Harry slung it onto his shoulder – not realising that someone had been walking up behind him.

"Ow!" A voice cried behind him.

Harry spun around, an apology ready on his lips until he saw who the person was – Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" He called out, giving a brief thought to why his voice should sound so happy when Malfoy scowled at him, rubbing at his reddened nose.

"Watch where your bloody well going Potter," Malfoy said, trying to skirt around him. He wasn't quick enough for Harry's Seeker reflexes though and he grabbed the back of Malfoy's robes, pulling the other boy up short.

Malfoy squawked as he fell backwards. Harry quickly reached out to steady him but Malfoy pushed him off, brushing down his clock as though Harry had dirtied him with his touch. When he'd finished he sneered at Harry.

"Keep your hands to yourself Potter – you should know that you can't afford this."

"Huh?" Harry replied, feeling particularly slow when Malfoy rolled his eyes at him.

"Oh for—I don't go for boys Potter so you'd be better off throwing yourself at someone who cares. Now, get out of the way so I can go to class." He narrowed his eyes at Harry's shocked expression, his smirk growing as he continued, "And if you molest me again I will report you to the Headmistress." His face had flickered on the last word but the smirk was carefully in place when he finally brushed past Harry hard enough to send Harry into the wall behind him.

Harry just stared after Malfoy's back, feeling like he'd been run over with the Weasley's flying car.

What the hell had just happened?

He'd only meant to ask how Malfoy knew about the Chamber of Secrets; he hadn't been trying to, to proposition him or anything. Why would Malfoy even think that?

"Hey Harry, you okay?" A voice said at his shoulder, making Harry start.

He turned to see Neville's kindly face giving him a worried look but he smiled in reply, "It's okay, I'm fine Neville," he said, turning his smile up a notch when Neville continued to give him that same concerned gaze.

"Honestly! I've even promised not to damage anymore of the crockery." Neville laughed at that and Harry gave a sigh of relief, knowing he'd just narrowly escaped an interrogation by his friend. Neville meant well but he was the same as Hermione and Ron – they loved him but they didn't _understand_. They couldn't see the things he could. They hadn't died and come back, they didn't see the accusing stares of the students when they passed him, didn't hear the whispers.

_"Why only you? Why did only you get to come back?"_They'd look ashamed as soon as they said it but Harry would always carry those words around with him. He'd learnt to accept their accusations – they were only truth after all.

Blimey but he was a depressing bloke to be around with nowadays.

Neville was talking about their new project in Herbology though and hadn't noticed the dip in Harry's mood. Shaking himself roughly Harry made an effort to listen to his friend as they left the castle and made their way to Professor Sprout's greenhouses.

"I mean, it's just so exciting to be able to choose our own plants for a change – don't you think Harry? I've already chosen mine – I'm going to be studying aconite."

"Uhr, what's aconite?" Harry asked, watching as Neville's face lit up. He started listing all the proprieties of aconite – also known as monkshood or wolfsbane – and Harry was free to let his thoughts wander as he and Neville walked.

He'd finally settled on a course of action when he and Neville reached Greenhouse Seven. Settling down into their seats they waited for the rest of the students. All the Eighth Years shared the same classes – there just weren't enough of them left to split the classes by House.

Harry had thought at the beginning of the year that maybe this would help everyone to join together and forget about House rivalries but it had done the exact opposite – if anything the hostility towards other Houses was at an all time high. It gave him a headache.

The four Hufflepuffs sat in the corner gossiping among themselves, the Ravenclaws in another corner casting surreptitious glances at the rest of them, the two Slytherins remaining sat…Wait a minute.

There were two Slytherins there – Goyle and another Slytherin boy sat in their designated corner - Harry thought his name was Zabini but he couldn't be sure – and he definitely was not Draco Malfoy.

So where the hell was Malfoy? For all intents and purposes he'd left long before Harry and Neville so he should have been sitting…oh._Oh_. Well, that certainly explained some things.

Malfoy sat on his own in a darkened corner of the greenhouse, almost disappearing into the shadows around him. If it weren't for his hair Harry might have missed him entirely – he probably would have if he hadn't been actively looking for the other boy. Was this what Malfoy did in all their other classes? Just…fade into the background?

The idea clashed in Harry's head. It made no sense, Malfoy was just not the kind of person to stay out of the spotlight – he reveled in attention. Yet here he was was trying to disappear from sight.

Just another thing wrong with Hogwarts that Harry would have to put right. Not that he didn't enjoy the silence – he'd almost forgotten about the fights Ron and Malfoy would fall into all the time but those fights had been a sign of happier times almost. Hogwarts needed them back if it was ever to go back to normal.

And Harry couldn't stand the thought of Malfoy being like he was. He wasn't dead – he wasn't a ghost, the least the git could do was show some sign of life.

Harry almost slipped off his stool to go prod the git and see if he was still alive but Professor Sprout chose that moment to enter the greenhouse, the rest of the students following close behind her. Hermione and Ron immediately went to sit next to him but their questions about his disappearance were halted when Sprout began talking.

Harry would never quite get used to how Sprout looked now – she'd been one of those survivors who came away from the battle just barely clinging to life. She'd lost a leg to a blasting curse and her hair was gone, burnt away from another spell. She wore a hat at all times now – she had before but without those grey wires peaking under everything just looked…off. She leaned heavily on her crutch as she moved to the head of the tables set out for them.

Her smile was still the same though and Harry found himself grinning back when she began to talk, "So! It's time for your final project to begin at last! Does everyone know what they will be doing?"

A chorus of nods from the students and she continued, "Well, there may have to be some little amendments made to your ideas. For one – it's been decided that you can choose a partner. That is to say, it is now compulsory for you all to have partners." Hermione looked like she was going to explode. Professor Sprout held her hands up in response to the sudden barrage of questions from the students. "I know, I know it's all fairly last minute but you're both going to have to show some flexibility about the plant you've chosen – I know some of you have already done plenty of research," a pointed look to Hermione and Neville, "And I know some of you don't even have an idea of what to write about yet," this time a look towards Harry and Ron. Harry grimaced, hoping no one had noticed. He'd hoped to keep his lack of research quiet – he'd been meaning to do it but it had just…slipped underneath all his other plans.

He'd had a lot other things on his mind recently. Schoolwork had kind of taken a backseat to it all. Hermione would've chewed him out if she'd known.

Ron grinned at him conspiratorially which Harry studiously ignored, listening as Sprout explained that at least they could choose who they wanted to partnered with and that this was not an excuse to slack off just because two people would be working on it instead of one.

Harry tuned her out, his eyes turning to Malfoy's hunched figure. He could feel an idea forming in his head…

As soon as Sprout told them to go sit next to their partner Harry had bolted off his stool. With an apologetic glance to Neville he made it over to that darkened area and dropped his books rather unceremoniously next to Malfoy's as he sat next to him.

"What the hell are you doing Potter?" Malfoy hissed next to him. If possible Harry thought he might actually be trying to hunch over even further. Did he have a height complex or something?

Harry shrugged and settled himself into his new work space opening his textbook and pulling out some parchment. Malfoy's hand slapped down on top of his book when he tried to pull it towards himself.

"I'll ask again Potter and this time you will be polite enough to _respond,_" the words were said with enough ire that Harry nodded, letting go of his book reluctantly and turning to Malfoy. "What the hell are you _thinking_sitting next to me?"

"Well, I thought it'd be kind of hard to partner up if I was sat all the way over there," Harry replied, gesturing to his previous seat where some Ravenclaw girl now sat gaping at him. In fact, Harry saw as he glanced around the room, everyone was staring at them. Even Sprout although she was trying to cover it up by bustling about with the plants in front of her. Ron looked shell-shocked.

Harry snickered to himself; well he'd wanted to change Hogwarts hadn't he? Maybe the best way to start was by waking everyone up to all the stuff just under their noses.

Like Malfoy who was now glaring at him silently.

He cleared his throat, "Look, I heard you were good at Herbology…"

"Where did you hear that?" Malfoy asked him suspiciously.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Alright, blimey, I didn't hear it anywhere. I just thought that you looked lonely over here by yourself – and I don't think you're going to get any other offers to partner up with you so unless you want to fail you'll have to deal with it."

His words seemed to fall almost like physical blows as Malfoy huddled even further into himself, his hands clenching and un-clenching in front of him. Harry looked at him in concern before turning to the rest of the class.

"Shouldn't you be working?" He asked them curtly; watching in wry amusement as everyone suddenly busied themselves with getting books and quills out and hurriedly making conversation with the person next to them. Good. Now he could focus on Malfoy.

One thing at a time, he cautioned himself. Just – treat him like a injured animal. One with lots of teeth. And pretty grey eyes.

Ignoring that last thought for the idiocy it was Harry started scribbling on his parchment before pushing it towards Malfoy and jabbing his hand at it. He saw Malfoy look down, snort to himself before grabbing his quill and writing back.

Harry felt a thrill of success when the parchment was pushed back towards him.

Underneath his messy, _'Sorry for the fuss'_ Malfoy had written – very neatly Harry noticed with a roll of his eyes –_'Are you actually apologising to me Potter?'_

Harry grinned to himself as he wrote back. He didn't have to wait long for Malfoy to respond. There were his original words: _'Yeah, don't get used to it.'_Followed up by Malfoy's: _'As long as you don't try to get in my pants again I guess I can work with you. Just try to keep your hormones under control.'_

Harry could feel himself blushing to the roots of his hair as he hastily grabbed the parchment and started scrunching it into a small ball before anyone could see it.

He stuffed it into his bag; face still flaming and looked up to see Malfoy smirking at him.

It was almost worth the embarrassment to see that expression back on Malfoy's face.

Almost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Secrets in the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** PG-13 (May go up later)

**Warnings:** Alternate 8th Year Fic.

**Summary:** In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...

**Author's Notes:** My first HP multi-parter! Haha, wish me luck.

* * *

Secret's in the Chamber

_Part Three – Harry's Offer_

* * *

His friends cornered him as soon as he left the greenhouse.

He knew Hermione and Ron had been staring at him and Malfoy. He had to give them credit for their patience, a few of the other students had tried to lean close in an attempt to overhear what they'd been saying but after passing the note back and forth several times they'd settled down into their textbooks – Malfoy was rather adamant about passing with a top marks and he wasn't about to let Harry drag him down. The least Harry could do was try and keep up.

Malfoy had already disappeared, slipping out as soon as class was over. He'd left Harry under strict instruction to meet him in the library after dinner to discuss their project though so Harry was no longer concerned over the other boy trying to avoid him and although the prospect of more work put a damper on Harry's mood he could still feel the excitement building within him.

"Harry, finally!" Hermione called, grabbing a hold of his arm and making him slow down.

He turned to her curiously, taking in her red cheeks – had he really been walking that fast? He realised when his feet crossed the threshold into the castle that he'd made it back to the castle in record time, a sure sign of just how lost in his thoughts he'd become.

Feeling a little chagrined under Hermione's exasperated looks Harry gave her an apologetic smile, "Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"Or someone," Hermione suggested.

Ron, who'd finally come up next to Hermione was scrunching his nose up, "Ugh, you're not talking about Malfoy are you? How can you stand to work with him Harry? He's _horrible_." He gave a theatrical shudder.

Harry sighed at his friend's antics, "Name one time this year he's done anything 'horrible' to any of us. Or anyone else come for that matter."

"Well, he…" Ron trailed off. "Huh, I can't think of any – but that doesn't mean he hasn't done anything. It just means he's being slyer about it – because you know, he's a Slytherin and all."

Hermione clucked her tongue at her boyfriend, "Honestly Ron, do you really think any of the Slytherins, especially Malfoy, would do anything wrong after the events of last year? Even Malfoy's not stupid enough to cause trouble so soon after his trial."

That brought Harry up short and he stopped, causing Hermione to walk into his back. He spun around, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly, "His what? When did Malfoy have a trial?"

Hermione glared at him, pointedly looking down at her shoulders until Harry let go with a muttered 'sorry'. She gave him a knowing look that he knew conveyed her forgiveness before she spoke again.

"It was in August I believe, the day after," she cast a brief look at Ron, "The day after Fred's funeral." The words were said quickly but Harry still winced, watching as Ron's expression darkened and he cursed.

"Damn Death Eaters, the lot of them should've been locked up." Ron had been quite adamant that summer that all the Death Eaters had been let off lightly, only four of them had been Kissed although Harry couldn't remember the names of the four. He knew that most of them had been carted off to the 'new and improved' Azkaban and a number of them had been placed under house arrest. The younger generation of Death Eaters had all been let off but Harry knew that some of them were still expected to see an Auror once a month and be questioned under Veritaserum.

He wondered if Malfoy was one of those few who had to be questioned and then wondered at himself that he'd never thought of this all before. What must it be like to have to spill your every secret, your every single dark thought, every month?

He shuddered, shaking away the thoughts and focusing on Ron and Hermione who were looking at him in concern again.

Blimey, he really was a crap friend sometimes wasn't he? Plastering a smile on his face Harry put his shoulders back and turned to Hermione. "So, what's your project about then?"

Hermione immediately went into a long description of the plant they'd chosen, its properties and use and how they were going to research it. Harry watched her fondly, amused as always by how animated Hermione became whenever work was mentioned. Her eyes lit up, her hands moved around her and she seemed so _happy_. Harry was glad for her – if anyone deserved to be happy it was Hermione. Especially after what happened with her parents…

Harry stamped on the thought before it could grab hold. No more dark thoughts, he promised himself, not today. He could already feel his magic roiling about within him and he winced at the pressure.

_Ignore it_, he thought, _ignore it and it'll go away_.

It wouldn't, he knew for a fact that it would only grow until he could bleed it out somehow. Not right now though, now was a time for him and his friends and he was determined to enjoy every moment of it.

* * *

When dinner was over Harry excused himself from the table and stood up, only to be stopped by Ron who grabbed his arm.

"Hey mate, you know if you want anything, anything at all, we're here for you yeah?" His cheeks went a dusty pink but he continued doggedly, "I know you want to, ah, make friends with Malfoy – why I don't understand – but if you want to you should do it. Just know that even though I think your going off your nutter we'll still support you." He grinned cheekily, "We'll even cart you to the Janus Thickey ward ourselves."

"Ron!" came Hermione's outraged cry.

Harry laughed loudly, amazed as always that he had such wonderful friends. He wondered sometimes what he had done to deserve them – and then gave up and just thanked whoever was looking out for him that he did. He would've been lost without them.

"Well, if I'm going to the Janus Thickey ward it'll only be to visit your sorry face," Harry called behind him as he started off for the library, chuckling at Ron's squawk of indignation behind him.

He left them behind him, making his way to his designated meeting with Malfoy. He almost felt like whistling as he walked along. He couldn't believe everything was going so _well_. Malfoy had agreed to partner with him which meant they'd be forced into close quarters for the next few days at least – more than enough time for Harry to figure out just what the hell was wrong with him. His friends had finally stopped talking about the Cutlery Incident and…and the students were still avoiding the Great Hall.

His steps faltered for a moment. He realised then that he hadn't thought about them much today – not half as much as he usually did. All the other students – he'd been so focused on Malfoy and his friends that he hadn't…he'd looked in the Great Hall that morning hadn't he? He had until his magic had forced him out but after that…He'd hadn't thought about them once had he? He'd been so wrapped up in Malfoy's problems, and trying to convince his friends he was okay.

Harry could feel his breathing increasing, his heart racing and the sweat building up on his forehead. Bringing a hand to his forehead he tried to rub away the headache that was building there. Leaning against a wall he tried to regain his calm, tried to even out his breathing.

_Fuck_. What the hell was he doing?

Grabbing his wand he pointed it at a nearby statue, "Confringo!" He yelled, watching in some satisfaction as it blew apart. It exploded, throwing rubble at him but he left his arms hanging limply by his side, welcoming the sharp stings as the jagged pieces bit into his skin. He wondered if there was any blood and rubbed at his cheek – he didn't want to scare Malfoy off.

His breathing had calmed by the time he'd finished and he looked at the pieces of stone at his feet with some remorse. It hadn't been on his list – or at least, he didn't think it was. It might have been on someone else's list though so he tried not to feel too guilty about destroying it. Quickly vanishing the evidence Harry cast a quick Tempus, grimacing when he realised he was now late to his meeting for Malfoy.

Hurrying on his way Harry only hoped that Malfoy hadn't left already.

He hadn't, Harry realised with some relief when he finally spotted the blond head, partially hidden behind the bookshelves. Ducking into the little corner Malfoy had found them Harry slid into his seat quietly, hoping Malfoy wouldn't notice.

* * *

Grey eyes glared at him. "You're late. If you're going to insist on being my partner Potter, at least have the _decency_ to show up on time when we set up a meeting."

Harry winced, "Sorry, I got…held up." He reached a hand up to touch his still-stinging cheek, immediately wishing he hadn't when Malfoy's eyes widened at the gesture.

"What the hell happened to your face?" He demanded, a hand rising slightly as if he were going to touch Harry before he curled it around the edge of the desk.

Harry grinned inwardly, that had to be a good sign didn't it? If Harry didn't know any better he'd say Malfoy looked _worried_. About him. Harry Potter – wonders of wonders.

"It's nothing," he replied, dropping his hand and shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "Just a scratch."

"You look like you had a run in with the Whomping Willow," was Malfoy's response. When Harry didn't say anything else the other boy heaved a sigh and grabbed one of the books he'd piled up next to him, pushing it in Harry's direction.

"Here, I grabbed a few books earlier whilst you were…" He made a face, "'Detained', there should be something in one of them about the Wiggentree."

Harry sighed as he opened to the first page of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. "I thought the Wiggentree was…well, a tree," he muttered to himself as he started flipping through pages.

Malfoy gave him one of those 'Could you seriously get anymore _thick_ Potter' looks. "It's a shrub Potter, not a tree." He corrected him, "And it can be used to create a very powerful potion so it would make for a good research project. If you want to suggest something else go ahead, I'm all ears."

Harry blushed and quickly shook his head, trying to ignore Malfoy's smug look as he settled back into his reading.

_'The Wiggentree is a magical rowan that will protect anyone touching its trunk from the attack of dark creatures. The tree itself is guarded by Bowtruckles which will become violent if anything threatens to take leaves or wood from the tree. For such a task to be completed one must first offer it wood lice of fairy eggs as a distraction.'_

Harry could already feel himself yawning and he looked up to see Malfoy immersed in his reading. Sitting just opposite him Harry had a perfect, unobstructed view of Malfoy's face and he took the time to really study it while Malfoy was otherwise engaged.

The dimmed lighting in the library cast harsh shadows on Malfoy's face, making the gauntness all the more apparent and the dark circles under his eyes looked even worse than they had this morning. Harry was certain that Malfoy wasn't sleeping – he didn't think anyone could sleep down in the Chamber. They'd have to be insane – or evil.

Harry was beginning to get the feeling that Malfoy was neither – so why was he there? The Gryffindor in Harry wanted to come right out and ask him, but he knew how well that went last time so he bit his tongue to stop the words tumbling out. He had to use what little Slytherin cunning in him existed. He had to – to think like Malfoy.

The thought made him smirk, a look that made Malfoy flinch when he finally looked up.

"Do you need the toilet Potter? You look rather constipated."

The smirk fell, replaced by an annoyed scowl as Harry ducked his head towards his book once more. Bloody Malfoy and his bloody smirks.

_'The Wiggentree is most used in the Wiggenweld Potion, an advanced healing potion with the power to awaken a person from a magically-induced sleep._

In the Medieval times there was hag named Lecticia Somnolens – she was a spiteful creature and jealous of the local king. She tainted a spindle with a Draught of Living Death and then tricked the young princess into pricking her finger on it, sending her into a deep sleep. Her plan was foiled however by a young wizard who smeared his lips with Wiggenweld Potion and then kissed the princess, curing her and bringing her out of the sleep.'

Harry let out a bark of laughter, startling Malfoy enough that he almost jumped out of his seat. The other boy settled down immediately, sending an irritated scowl at Harry who merely grinned widely at him.

"I watched this once on television – it was a movie my cousin was watching called Sleeping Beauty about a princess who falls asleep and can only be awakened by a kiss from her one true love."

Malfoy gave him a questioning look until Harry pushed the book towards him, pointing his finger at the paragraph about the hag. He watched as Malfoy read with pursed lips, looking up afterwards and giving Harry a long stare.

"Why am I surprised that Muggles would steal the idea from us?" The other boy finally drawled, seeming back to his usual self as he stared down at the book again. "They've taken so much else after all…"

Harry cursed himself inwardly as he flailed about, trying to think of something to say that would lift the dark mood that had fallen over the table. Why did he never think things through? Of course Malfoy wouldn't see it in the same light he did – Harry had found it amusing comparing the hag to the evil witch in the movie but Malfoy…well, Malfoy wasn't him after all. He hadn't grown up in the Muggle world for one – had hated them all his life. Of course he wouldn't find this funny.

Harry was about to give up and just apologise again when a thought finally occurred.

"Would you like to sleep with me?" He blurted out.

Malfoy's eyes widened almost comically.

Oh. Well, that hadn't come out quite like how he'd meant it. Harry hastily backtracked, "I mean, not _with_ me, just, uhr, you know, in my bed."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him.

Harry continued to babble, "Because I bet the Chamber's cold right? And you probably can't sleep down there, but you could come and sleep in my bed. I mean, it's big enough for four people really and I don't want— " He trailed off. "It was just an idea," he finished lamely, looking down at his hands which were shaking where they rested on the table.

Malfoy started laughing quietly.

Harry watched him, feeling something akin to admiration as the light flickered over Malfoy's features. Malfoy laughing was…different. He wasn't smirking, wasn't frowning, and he wasn't glaring at Harry and his friends.

Everything about him looked softer, the sharp panes on his face weren't so pronounced, his grey eyes held just a bit of warmth and his blond hair seemed to shine somehow in the dim light. He looked—he looked…good.

And Harry really couldn't afford to be having those kinds of thoughts. Especially about _Malfoy_ of all people – what the hell was wrong with him?

He wished he could wash his mind out sometimes, some of the thoughts he had scared the hell out of him. God, he'd just thought Malfoy was _attractive_ hadn't he? Ron would scream him into an early death if he ever found out.

"Potter? Potter!" Harry's head snapped up to find Malfoy glaring at him once more. He almost sighed in relief. Glaring – that was fine, that was usual, that wasn't sexy. Wait…sexy? No, forget that.

Glaring was definitely good.

"Potter, for the final time, if you don't reply I am going to curse you into next week. And then you're going to have to explain in my next review meeting why I cast curses at the Defeater-Of-All-Evil."

"You have review meetings?" Harry asked, somewhat stupidly if Malfoy's incredulous stare was anything to go by.

"Of course I have review meetings; all known-and-rumoured Death Eaters have review meetings every month. I'm lucky in that I get them weekly," the words were said with a twist in his mouth.

Harry quickly steered the conversation away, going back to his original question. "So, will you?"

"Will I what?" Malfoy replied with a smirk, purposely playing dumb to make Harry feel even stupider. Or, at least, that's what it felt like to Harry. He was sure it was Slytherin skill to make Gryffindors feel like idiots.

"Uhr, use my bed?"

Malfoy grimaced, "I'm not sure that's any better than 'would you sleep with me'. Were you listening when I told you I am not, nor will ever be inclined, towards the manlier sex? I prefer my sexual partners with curves and you, Potter, seem not to have any. So keep your hands to yourself."

Harry knew he was red, could feel his face flaming in fact but he persevered. He was stubborn if nothing else.

"You can't actually want to stay down there?" He asked sceptically.

Malfoy snorted, "Of course not, who would want to actually stay there?" He shuddered, "When Myrtle told me, at first I didn't believe her but—"

"Myrtle told you? Why would she tell you about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry mused, almost to himself but Malfoy still answered him.

"Is that what that place is called? She never did say—and mind your own business Potter. I agreed to be your partner for this project – that does not mean I'm about to start telling you all my innermost secrets."

Harry knew, without a doubt, that he had to get Malfoy out of the Chamber of Secrets. He had to, this wasn't just about Malfoy – this was about Hogwarts and the darkness that still remained, clinging to the walls and seeping into the stones like a black virus. He had to get rid of it – and he had to destroy the Chamber of Secrets – which meant that Malfoy would have nowhere to sleep and Harry would feel guilty so…He tried again.

"Look Malfoy, I have a big bed, it's warm, it's comfy and it's a hell of a lot better than the Chamber. I promise I won't touch you, we'll sleep on opposite sides, and we don't even have to share the same covers."

Malfoy was still looking uncertain so Harry finally brought out his last card, "I'm going to destroy the Chamber tomorrow and I want you to help me."

That got Malfoy's attention. His eyelashes fluttered – not that Harry was watching him that closely or anything – and he sighed.

"Fine Potter – I'll sleep with you – on one condition." Harry frowned a bit at the ultimatum but nodded his head for Malfoy to continue. The other boy pursed his lips slightly, looking down at his hands and seeming to debate with himself before he looked up again.

"I want to help," he finally said. "Before I agree to whatever…depravities you have in mind concerning me in your bed I want you to let me destroy the chamber with you."

Harry sat, stunned into silence at Malfoy's request – all he wanted was to help? He didn't want money, or Harry's humiliation or…or anything but to _help_?

Harry finally noticed that Malfoy's face was turning away from him so he reached out, placing his hand next to Malfoy's where it rested on his textbook. He moved his hand, just slightly, so their fingertips were touching and then he leaned forward.

"I'd like that," he said, grinning at Malfoy's expression.

Malfoy's lips twitched, just slightly and Harry watched, waiting for the smirk to appear but Malfoy smiled instead. It was a small smile, barely there really, but Harry would probably remember it for the rest of his life.

"Thank you Potter, I…" Malfoy coughed abruptly, the smile disappearing, replaced by his usual smug-filled grin. "I hope it won't be too hard for you, having to sleep next to the object of your sexual obsessions."

And just like that Harry was back to hating Draco Malfoy.

He had a feeling the next few days were going to be full of hardship…


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Secrets in the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** R

**Warnings:** Alternate 8th Year Fic. Also note the rating change: there is a masturbation scene in this chapter.

**Summary:** In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...

* * *

Secrets in the Chamber

_Part Four – Malfoy's Tears_

* * *

Well, he'd expected things to be hard. Just not…this kind of hard.

It had taken a lot of inventive thinking to get Malfoy into the Gryffindor Common Room – and a lot of judicious use of the Invisibility Cloak that now lay at the bottom of the bed. Harry had gone through the portal first and then made a show of dropping something just inside it, stooping to grab it whilst Malfoy crawled up beside him. There hadn't been many people still awake and those that had been present had mostly ignored Harry as he'd made his way up to bed, Malfoy following at his heels.

Harry had lent Malfoy some pyjamas – knowing from Malfoy's expression of distaste that he'd only avoided a cutting remark because they'd been trying to be quiet. He'd shrugged in response, searching around his trunk for spare sheets, throwing them onto the bed.

"Harry? You feeling cold mate?" Seamus had asked him from across the room.

Harry had almost cursed but stopped just in time, turning to give Seamus a sheepish smile. "Uhr, just, you know, get cold feet sometimes."

Seamus had snorted and turned around to go back to sleep and the room had fallen silent once more. Malfoy had watched the exchange with an amused smirk and made no move to help Harry when he tried to arrange the bed so the two of them could sleep without touching each other. He'd been tempted to make a barrier of pillows – but he didn't really have that many pillows and anyway, he hated Malfoy. He doubted his sleep-self would want to go near the prat.

Oh, how wrong he'd been.

His face was buried in Malfoy's hair – which was probably a good thing because then no one could see how badly his face was flaming red. His nose was pressed against Malfoy's neck and all he could smell was the musky scent of maleness and a strange mixture of apple and mint that had to Malfoy's unique scent and…God, that shouldn't be making him hard but it was.

His arm had thrown itself around the other boy sometime during the night and his leg had sneakily crossed over one of Malfoy's, pulling his crotch in line with Malfoy's arse.

Malfoy moved slightly and Harry's body froze – except for his cock which decided to _twitch_. Harry groaned quietly into Malfoy's hair – he was a dead man if Malfoy woke up now.

Stealing up all his famed courage Harry rolled over in one smooth movement, shifting himself all the way onto the opposite side of the bed and resting there, almost afraid to breath, as he watched Malfoy. When the other boy made no signs of waking Harry finally breathed out in relief.

Lying flat on his back he threw a hand across his eyes, thanking whoever was watching him for his luck. That had been a close one. Far too close. And he was still hard.

Gritting his teeth Harry tried to will it away but his cock refused to obey him. He looked over at Malfoy, thinking the sight would kill off whatever erotic thoughts he'd been having in his sleep.

Malfoy looked ridiculous in red, he decided as he looked at Malfoy's paler-than-pale features against the deep red of his Gryffindor sheets. His blond hair looked kind of good though…He wondered how soft it was. When Malfoy had been younger all that hair wax he'd put in it had made it look more like straw than hair but now…Now it just looked silky and it was more white than gold really and…And he should not be thinking like this.

He was aching and hard and Malfoy was just peacefully sleeping next to him, not doing anything except breathing and…Harry should not find that sexy. At all – except he kind of did if his cock was any indication

Uttering a curse Harry threw himself out of the bed, making his way into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He leant against the wall, sliding down it until his arse was resting on cold tiles and his head was thrown back looking at the ceiling.

Squeezing his eyes closed he threw caution away, thrusting his hand into his pyjama bottoms and grabbing his cock.

_Fuck_. He pressed his lips together, trying to stifle the moans and groans and started to tug lightly on his cock before wrapping his hand around it fully.

He thought of wet mouths, and tight heat and grabbing hold of blond hair, holding that mouth in place as thrust into into it over and _over_. He imagined the sucking that would alternate between gentle and hard, the slight nip of teeth that would drive him crazy. His mind immersed itself in the image of grey eyes looking up at him coyly as a tongue slipped over the head of his cock, sliding down and then…

He stuffed his fist into his mouth as he came, muffling his sounds of pleasure.

He'd just…he'd just wanked to the thought of Malfoy sucking him off.

The shock finally set in and Harry found himself locked in place, his wet trousers sticking to him and his eyes closed, this time in dismay. He couldn't wrap his mind around it all, his brain refused to accept the facts. Even though really it was just the one, simple fact that he'd _wanked to Draco Malfoy_ that circled over and over again.

"Oh fuck," Harry muttered, finally moving his hand out of his trousers and looking in distaste at his hand. He wiped it on his pyjama trousers and slowly stood up, using the wall for support.

"Harry!" A voice suddenly cried from outside, "Get the hell out here right now!"

Harry grimaced, recognising Ron's voice. What the hell was wrong now? Looking around he grabbed one of the towels that hung on the wall – he thought it belonged to Dean – and used it to try and get rid of any evidence he'd left. There was still a patch of wetness on his trouser leg – a clear indicator of what he'd been doing – but he thought that if he kept his legs close and sort of shuffled he'd be able to hide the worst of it.

Taking a deep breath Harry steeled himself for whatever lay beyond the door. He opened it and walked out into – well, a warzone would be an apt description for the scene before him.

Malfoy stood beside his bed, wand out and waving wildly in front of him. Ron knelt beside his bed next to Harry's, his head peering around the side of his trunk and his wand set on Malfoy, Dean and Seamus were stood next to each, twin looks of confusion on their faces and Neville…Neville was nowhere to be seen as usual.

Moving as quickly as he could Harry placed himself between their wands and Malfoy, spreading his arms and hoping he looked as stubborn as he felt. "For God's sake put down your wands," he said, trying to infuse his voice with all the annoyance and exasperation he felt inside. Whilst most of him was still filled with shame over his own actions he could feel the irritation growing inside at his friend's behaviour.

"What the hell is going on?"

"What's going _on_?" Ron half-yelled at him; face red and wand still pointed – this time straight at Harry's chest. "I woke up and looked over at your bed to find Malfoy sleeping there," he almost spat the name, glaring at Malfoy's pale face, or what he could see of it around Harry's body. "And you nowhere in sight!"

Harry shoved a hand through his hair, cursing himself for letting the situation happen – he should've planned for the morning but they'd both just kind of fallen into bed and then Harry had fallen asleep and…woken up like he had. He shook his head fiercely, dislodging the useless thoughts. He couldn't change the way things had worked out, he just had to focus now and try to think of ways to diffuse it. He made what he hoped were calming motions with his hands, trying to convey a feeling of serenity that he as hell didn't feel in that moment.

"I bought Malfoy here last night," he finally said.

"You _what_?!" Ron screeched.

"You heard him Weasley," Malfoy piped up behind him in his most drawling voice, "I was _invited_ here by Potter."

"Are you…are you sleeping with him?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with a kind of please-don't-let-this-be-true expression. He looked so desperate that Harry hurriedly opened his mouth to reassure him only for Malfoy to beat him to it.

"Potter and I do not have…" A pause that Harry could swear was filled with Malfoy's revulsion at the idea, "_Relations_ of that sort Weasley."

Harry felt a little disgruntled at the amount of disgust in his words – was it really so horrifying a prospect? He didn't know why – and he never wanted to figure out the 'why' really – but the idea that Malfoy found the idea of dating him so horrible kind of hurt. If only a bit.

Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention Harry focused on Ron, figuring him to be the one most wound up. Dean and Seamus couldn't really give a toss who Harry brought into his bed – sure they were giving him queer looks but they were less likely to hex him for it. Ron however…Ron was looking at Malfoy with murder in his eyes.

"Look Ron, Malfoy and I aren't having sex," he snorted, "Hell we don't even really like each other. Malfoy's just having a bit of a hard time at the moment and I thought—"

"What did you think Potter?" Malfoy suddenly said behind him.

Turning around Harry took in Malfoy's flushed face, his glaring grey eyes and his hand, shaking with anger as he moved his wand away from Ron to point at Harry. Now he had four wands pointed at him, Harry thought wryly, it was almost like being in the war again.

"You thought you'd swoop in and save poor Malfoy? Well guess what? This Malfoy doesn't want, or need your help so you can get lost Potter!"

"You're the one who needs to get lost Malfoy!" Ron replied warningly, waving his wand for emphasis.

"Ron!" Harry cried in exasperation, watching with a kind of sinking feeling as Malfoy spun on his heel and left the room.

Harry collapsed onto his bed with a gusty sigh. Well, that had certainly gone well. He couldn't have handled it better could he?

He laughed softly. God he was so fucked.

* * *

"Malfoy! Malfoy wait!" Harry yelled at the retreating back. Blimey but the git was fast!

Harry had been trying to catch up to the other boy all day to no avail, Malfoy had continued to avoid him somehow but Harry thought he finally had him. He'd tracked him back to the Chamber of Secrets, catching sight of Malfoy just as slipped down the tubes. Harry had been quick to follow him but had stumbled and now Malfoy stood waiting for him in the Chamber, a stubborn look of refusal on his face.

"Whatever you've got to say Potter spit it out so you can leave and I can get on with my life."

Harry bit off a laugh, "Life? You call this a life Malfoy? This isn't what you call living unless you're a rat living in the sewers."

Malfoy scowled at him, "Did you just compare me to a rat Potter?"

"Yeah I did," Harry retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and facing off against Malfoy who looked a little less sure of himself. Good, Harry thought, he might just be able to do this if he could keep the git off his guard.

"I told you I was going to destroy the Chamber today, I'm not going to stop just because you want to stay down here."

"I don't want to stay here!" Malfoy blurted out, looking cross with himself for doing so. He bit his lip, seeming to struggle inwardly for a moment before continuing, "I've been forced down here if you must know. There's nowhere else for me to go."

"I offered to let you stay with me," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him, "Oh yes, that's a wonderful prospect, having to wake up to Weasley's freckles every morning and having him curse me in my sleep. No thank you Potter."

"I already talked to Ron," he hadn't but he planned to when this was over. "He's promised not to hex you or anything." Well, he would when Harry made him. "Dean and Seamus don't really care and Neville spends all his time over at Ravenclaw anyway so…please?"

"Again with the begging Potter," Malfoy replied, but his tone was…considering? Harry watched as Malfoy's eyes flicked around the Chamber, taking in the statue of Slytherin and the pillars before finally landing back on Harry.

"I put a lot of effort into making this place liveable after…after everything that happened," he said stiffly.

"I'm sure you did," Harry replied, trying to sound sympathetic without being condescending. It was a hard line, one he wasn't sure he managed when Malfoy's gaze visibly sharpened.

"I scrubbed the floor for _weeks_," Malfoy emphasised, gesturing to the floor which, Harry had to admit, was pretty clean for a Chamber infested with Dark Arts and Basilisk remains. Actually—

"What did you do with the Basilisk?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Malfoy smirked at him, putting one hand on his hip before he replied smugly, "I sold him off of course. Basilisk sales can sell for quite a lot if you know the right people."

Harry barely resisted snorting. "And you know the right people."

"Of course," Malfoy told him snidely. "I can't believe you never thought to do it before."

"I was twelve when I went up against the Basilisk Malfoy. I was kind of busy trying to stay alive to think about how much it would sell for."

Malfoy looked uncomfortable for a while before shaking his head warily, "How so like you Potter. Too busy trying to save the world to think of your own needs."

"I don't need money," Harry replied tersely.

"No you don't, do you? I did hear about the kind members of the public donating to the great cause that is Harry Potter," his voice sounded bitter but Harry couldn't even begin to guess at what. At Harry's perceived wealth? His fame? Both?

"The Malfoy vaults probably put mine to shame," he finally said when the silence began to grow uncomfortable. He shuffled his feet at Malfoy's incredulous look.

"You amaze me sometimes Potter," Malfoy said, managing somehow to make the sentence sound like the worst kind of insult. Harry bristled, ready to defend himself against whatever Malfoy had against him now when Malfoy's next words effectively shocked him into silence. "The Ministry tore through what was left of the Vault's after the war, my father and mother are both incarcerated at home and whatever is left of our money goes to Ministry to pay 'war reparations'." He spat the last words, his grey eyes turning stormy.

"You…you're poor?" The words were out before Harry could stop them and he immediately wished he could vanish on the spot at Malfoy's murderous look.

"Yes Potter, I'm _poor_ and no, I don't want or need your stupid pity. Get out!" The words were shouted and Malfoy's hand clenched tighter around his wand.

Harry raised his hands, palms out towards Malfoy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that! I would never pity you Malfoy. I mean, you've fucked up a lot," Malfoy winced, "But you've come out of it and I think you can become better for it. You've had to face a lot in your life – a lot of stuff that most kids don't even think about and you've done the best you could and okay, most of the time you made some pretty bad decisions but you made them. That's more than can be said for a lot of people who lived during the war. And now that the wars over – now you can make amends and become someone who deserves to live in a time peace. Or - at least that's what I think." He finished somewhat lamely.

Malfoy stared at him quietly for so long that Harry was afraid he'd talked him into a stupor. Finally the other boy shook himself slightly, his hand dropping to his side, his grip loosening until the wand dropped to the floor with a dull thump.

Oh fuck. Malfoy was crying.

He didn't make any noise – if Harry hadn't had a clear view of his face he wouldn't have known that Malfoy was doing anything but standing there. He didn't sniffle, didn't bawl like some people did, didn't mutter to himself – the only thing to show his inner suffering were the twin tracks of tears down his face from his eyes.

Harry had never realised before how expressive Malfoy's eyes were. Before they'd always been filled with hate and anger and now…now the hatred had dimmed and the anger was still there, just brimming under the surface. Those grey eyes were swimming with sadness though, such despair that Harry couldn't help himself.

He moved without conscious though, crossing the room towards Malfoy and wrapping his arms around the other boy. He held him close, feeling the minute shudders that ran through Malfoy's body. He let one hand run over the other boy's back, just rubbing very slowly up and down, feeling Malfoy's head rest against his shoulder, those tears soaking into Harry's cloak, his skin wet from the impression of Malfoy's cheek against his neck.

He held himself as still as possible, just waiting for Malfoy to finish, to get a hold of himself so they could talk some more. He'd…he'd liked talking to Malfoy. Hell, he liked holding him. And he could curse himself for thinking like that when the other boy was fucking _crying_ all over him. What kind of sick bastard was he? He seemed to get off on people crying all over him - still, at least Malfoy wasn't kissing him. And he was not disappointed in that fact. At all.

"Hey Malfoy," he said softly, turning his head slightly so that blond hair tickled his nose. "It's going to be okay."

"You're such a liar Potter," the words were muffled against Harry's shoulder but Harry could feel the shudders decreasing gradually until Malfoy was still against him.

The other boy pulled away, rubbing roughly at his cheeks, dropping his hands away and clenching them uselessly by his side. Malfoy's cheeks were pink – whether from the harsh treatment or from the shame of crying in front of his once-enemy Harry couldn't tell. His head was ducked, just ever so slightly and Harry could feel his own heart clenching in pity. He stooped slightly, grabbing Malfoy's wand and holding it out towards him, watching as Malfoy stared at his wand as if it were a foreign object before grabbing it.

Malfoy gave a soft laugh before tucking his wand and holding his hand out to Harry. "Let's try this again shall we? Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy. I'm an Ex-Death Eater and have lived in the Chamber of Secrets since the beginning of Eighth Year when I was kicked out of the Slytherin Common Room by my former friends."

Harry didn't even think, grasping Malfoy's hand in his decisively and holding onto it securely. "Hello my name is Harry Potter and I defeated the most evil bastard to ever step foot in the Wizarding World – with a lot of help from my friends. I love the Wizarding World more than anything and I want to see it healed. I want to help if I can and…and I want Draco Malfoy's help too. I want to be his friend if I can." His didn't know if his words sounded as wistful as they did in his head but when their hands dropped Malfoy was still looking at him with an open expression.

He looked…almost accepting. With a nod of his head Malfoy shook his wand back into his hand and looked at Harry with a mischievous expression. "Now that that's settled, let's get to this shall we?"

Harry nodded, smiling as he brandished his own wand. It was…wonderful this feeling, like they were co-conspirators. Like they were already friends. He knew they weren't, not yet anyway. Harry would do his best but a they had a lot of history to put behind him. Even so Harry knew that he'd try and if they weren't friends anytime soon…Well, maybe in the future.

It might take a long time but Harry was nothing if not stubborn – and he wanted this. Probably more than he even realised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Secrets in the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** R

**Warnings:** Alternate 8th Year Fic.

**Summary:** In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...

**Author's Notes:** This chapters a bit shorter than the others – sorry about that!

* * *

Secrets in the Chamber

_Part Five – Harry's Mistake_

* * *

"Confringo!" Malfoy cried.

"Reducto!" Harry said soon after, brandishing his wand and watching as the statue of Salazar Slytherin shuddered for moment before exploding. Parts of it disintegrated, showering them both with dust, but there were still bits of rock as large of Harry's hand that pelted them. Harry threw up a quick Shield Charm and the debris bounced away, falling to the floor harmlessly.

Malfoy cast him a wordless look of thanks that Harry accepted with a smile before turning around and brandishing his wand at one of the pillars. He narrowed his eyes on the serpents that twined themselves around the pillars, rising to the ceiling and bit off another _Reducto_, watching in satisfaction as two of the pillars fell to the ground. Malfoy did the same next to him and in no time they'd reduced the pillars to ash and pebbles.

Kicking at the stone under his feet Harry paused, looking down at the wand in his hand. _Now what?_ The words echoed within his head and he turned to face Malfoy, watching as the eerie green light of the chamber played over his features.

Malfoy looked back, crooking a shoulder before gesturing about him at all the rubble surrounding them. "So what do you propose we do now Potter? I don't think destroying the entire Chamber would be a good idea – we could bring the entire Castle down on our heads."

At Harry's sheepish look Malfoy gave a sigh of exasperation, "And why am I not surprised you didn't think of that before?"

Harry frowned, he _hadn't_ thought about that before – but of course it made sense didn't it? They were, right at that moment, down in the dark depths of the Castle. If he were to just keep blasting at the walls…the pillars were fine. They were just a show of Salazar Slytherin's obsession with snakes and his own greatness. But he wanted to get rid of all of it…It was just a question of how…

He spun his wand in his hand, turning his gaze towards the large, blank area where Slytherin's face had once been. It was all rough stone. Looking down again at all the rubble Harry could feel an idea growing in his mind and he grinned, "Alterar," he whispered, forcing his will over the stone.

The rubble around him rose, vibrating in the air for a moment before fusing together. Harry smiled wider, swishing his wand and then pointing it towards the wall that had been previously been taken up by Slytherin's ugly face.

Malfoy made a small sound of surprise when he'd finished and Harry turned to him, taking in the look of…was that _admiration_ that Malfoy was showing him?

"You left Slytherin in," he finally said quietly.

Harry nodded his head decisively, looking back at his creation. The Hogwarts crest took up the majority of the wall now. The fierce lion and the friendly badger, the smart eagle and the sly snake. They all joined together, curling around the 'H' that combined them all.

"I couldn't leave you out now could I? You're all a part of Hogwarts too." Harry replied simply as he turned away to look at Malfoy's blank face.

The other boy stayed quiet for so long that Harry worried he'd done something to upset him, and when he reached out with his wand it took all of Harry's willpower to hold himself back. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation but a thread of gold had already burst from the end of Malfoy's wand and soon the words 'Quies Quietis' were written in flowing script underneath Harry's creation.

Harry frowned a little, "What do they mean?"

Malfoy smirked, "And of course the Great Harry Potter doesn't know even the simplest of Latin phrases." Harry bristled, ready to give a retort when Malfoy gave a small chuckle. The shock was enough to clamp Harry's mouth shut and Malfoy continued, "It means 'quiet', or 'rest' and 'peace'. I thought…well, it seemed appropriate."

Harry's lips quirked into another grin. He just couldn't stop himself, "Well, I was going to rename this place the Room of Calm."

Malfoy grimaced in distaste, "The Room of Calm? Honestly Potter…and how long did that take you to think up?"

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, letting his wand slip from his fingers, "Uhm…just now?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "At least call it something with class – how about the Hall of Serenity?"

Harry snorted, "Now that's just like you."

"What is?"

"Only you would think of such a pompous name for it. And it's not really big enough to be a hall."

Malfoy scowled at him, his lips pinching together in a way that made him look like a rodent. Harry decided, in the interest of diplomacy, not to mention it. "Well, it's a lot better than the Room of Calm," he muttered.

"Alright, alright," Harry smirked, "How about the Meeting Room of Peace and Quiet?" Harry ducked when Malfoy reached out to punch him in the face. He was laughing though and so, he noticed, was Malfoy. He felt almost accomplished, even though the room still didn't have a name.

He felt…peaceful. His magic wasn't singing in his veins, he was having _fun_ which, when he looked back, he hadn't experienced in a while and – and – it was with Malfoy of all people.

Who would've thought?

* * *

Harry somehow convinced Malfoy to return to the Gryffindor Tower with him. He still wasn't sure how but he had a sneaking feeling that Malfoy had somehow manipulated him into it. He didn't argue too much – after all, it was partly his fault that Malfoy's desk was now better off as kindle than as a writing area and his bed…well, mattress had been torn almost to shreds by all the flying debris.

Thankfully there weren't many people about so Harry was able to smuggle Malfoy upstairs without a second glance. From the sounds his stomach was making he guessed it was dinner and everyone was in the Great Hall getting food. Well – he corrected himself when he saw Dennis curled up by the fire – almost everyone.

A pang went through him as he watched Dennis listlessly picking at his sleeve, staring into the flames and he stood there for moment, mouth opening, wanting to say something comforting but he couldn't. He just _couldn't_becauaw Dennis would look at him and know that Harry had lived whilst his brother had died and that…that wasn't fair.

So he turned his back, swallowing hard as he resolutely pushed Malfoy up the stairs, ignoring the other boy's squawks of disapproval at the manhandling.

When they finally made it into the Male Dormitories' Malfoy promptly went to sit down on Harry's bed, crossing one leg elegantly over the other and giving Harry a peculiar look.

"What was that all about?"

"What all about?" Harry asked, trying not to sound as defensive as he felt.

Malfoy just stared at him some more before looking down at where his hands rested on his knees. "We – that is, the Slytherins – none of them look like that. Or the ones that would are currently locked up somewhere." His mouth twisted and he clenched his hands into fists on his lap. "As hard as it is to say, I kind of understand why you're doing this. Although I still think you're an idiot for doing it."

Harry felt a jolt of – of something race through him at Malfoy's words and he sat down on Ron's bed quickly before his legs gave way and he fell in an awkward heap on the fall. Only Malfoy, he thought wryly, could say something that would catch him so off-guard.

"My mother—" Malfoy's eyes narrowed and Harry saw that he was picking at his nails now, his hands shaking just ever so slightly. If Harry hadn't been looking so intently he wouldn't have noticed. And Malfoy looked paler than ever—whatever he was about to say was clearly costing him a lot of effort. Harry endeavoured to do his best to listen—and help if he could.

"I don't suppose you know what happened to my mother." At Harry's blank look Malfoy gave snort of disgust, "No, of course you don't. You were too busy winning awards at the time."

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from responding to the jibe. He'd only won two awards but he doubted Malfoy wanted to know that. He settled for scowling, feeling a prickling of unease run through him when Malfoy just kept staring at his hands. He looked – he looked so strung out, like he was on the edge of something about to jump, or fall.

"You never did have time to bother with those like us," Malfoy continued and this time Harry couldn't stop himself.

"Like you? You mean Death Eaters?" He watched as Malfoy's face seemed to crumple before him, his lips quivering.

"My mother was never a Death Eater!" Malfoy shouted back at him, his whole body shaking now.

Harry could only stare at him—he'd never seen someone lose control so easily—and this was Malfoy. Cold, infallible Draco Malfoy who'd sneered and cried in front of him and was now falling apart.

He reached out a hand to grab Malfoy's shoulder in a show of support but Malfoy smacked his hand away. "I've told you before Potter, I don't want your _pity_," the last words were like physical hits raining down on his body and Harry quickly brought his hand back to himself, curling over it slightly as if to protect it from anymore harm.

He didn't understand any of this—they'd been doing so well and now, all of a sudden, it felt like he was back at square one. What the hell had he done?

"My mother never did anything, it was all Father," Malfoy was muttering now, almost to himself.

Harry frowned at him, opening his mouth and saying, "She tortured muggles!" before he could stop himself.

The instant the words were out he wished he could take them back. Malfoy was glaring at him with such hatred – more than he ever had before – that Harry felt cold all over. He avoided the gaze, looking down at his shoes and listening to Malfoy shuffling about the room.

When he dared to look up again Malfoy was in his bed, staring at him this time, but with an utter lack of warmth, the only emotion escaping him was a sort of weary disappointment.

Harry could feel his chest hurt and he opened his mouth to say anything – to apologise – but Malfoy beat him to it.

"No," he said quietly. "Mother never hurt the muggles. I did." And he turned over, pulling the covers high over him and effectively shutting Harry out.

_Well,_ Harry thought to himself, filling the words with as much self-loathing as he could. He shut his eyes, trying to wish himself back in time but knowing it was over – he'd wreaked it all.

_I'm the one who made the mistake this time._The question now though was…what could he do that would fix it? His heart grew heavy as he looked over at Malfoy's covered form.

* * *

That night was a long one for Harry. When he'd been sure Malfoy was asleep he'd crept back down the Common Room, had spotted Ron and Hermione in the corner and gone and sat beside them.

His face must have said everything because Hermione immediately moved away from Ron to put her arm around him. He sat there stiffly, accepting her comfort but knowing that he didn't deserve it. She'd finally let go, giving him another of those concerned looks before sitting opposite, shifting forward to take hold of his hands, just holding them gently as she waited for Harry to speak.

Harry ducked his head, watching Hermione's thumb as it gently stroked his hand. His friends really were amazing. He didn't deserve them – but he needed them all the same.

"I did something stupid," he finally admitted, his voice choked and rough and he was _not_ bloody crying. He wasn't.

He was though and his shoulders were suddenly shaking as the racking sobs escaped him. Hermione just held onto his hands more tightly, Ron reaching over to grab his shoulder, keeping him steady, lending his quiet support.

"I don't know…I don't know what to do." He admitted, taking one hand away from Hermione's grip and rubbing fiercely at his face. He didn't even know why he was crying – he wasn't the one who'd been hurt. He'd betrayed Malfoy's trust – just when the other boy had been about to open up to him.

He knew, had known, when Malfoy had sat down on his bed and started talking that he'd been about to tell Harry something amazing, something private that he hadn't admitted to anyone before. And Harry had ruined it. All of it.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said softly, nudging his hand away and using a tissue to wipe at his eyes.

Ron squeezed his shoulder, leaning down slightly so he was nearer Harry's head. "Whatever it is mate, we'll help you."

"I know," Harry replied with a weak smile. "What if I don't deserve help though?"

"Everyone deserves help Harry," Hermione cut him off fiercely, looking him straight in the eye. "Isn't that what you, yourself, said? That you were doing this to get rid of the bad memories everyone had? That you want to help them forget it all? Do you not think that you deserve the same help sometimes?"

Harry bit his lip, his free hand clenching at his robes "What I did though—"

"This is about Malfoy again isn't it?" Ron interrupted him.

Harry clenched his teeth, "Yeah but this isn't his fault Ron. It's mine – it's all my bloody fault. I said something," he swallowed past the lump in his throat, "I said something really bad. I didn't think, I didn't _think_ and I don't know if Malfoy's ever going to forgive me."

Ron snorted, "Do you really want the ferret's forgiveness?"

Harry started when Hermione looked away from him to glare at her boyfriend, "Ron." She said tightly, "We've talked about this. Malfoy has changed – and if Harry wants to help him we will _accept_ that and try out best to support him. Am I clear?"

Ron looked chagrined, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly, "Yeah, sorry Harry. I just – he did a lot of crap in the past and I can't just forget it all."

"I know," Harry replied quietly. "I know he was a prat and I hated him but – but you didn't see him down there Ron."

"Down where?" Hermione inquired, pressing his hand to get his attention.

Harry gave her a small, tired smile. "Nice try Hermione. I've already hurt him once; I'm not going to again by giving away his secrets."

Hermione nodded once, to show she understood. Hermione always understood, she always somehow knew just the right thing to say, the right thing to do. Harry wished he could borrow some of her wisdom because he was all out of ideas.

"What can we do to help?" Hermione asked him. "What do you need Harry?"

"I need…I need time to think. I need a plan but I can't borrow it off you," he looked at Hermione apologetically. "I need my own plan, something I've thought of. I can't borrow your brains."

Ron grinned at him, "Wish I could sometimes."

Hermione blushed, giving them both a smile before focusing once more on Harry. "Well, if you need us, you know you can come to us – whatever we're doing, whatever time it is. Come find us and we'll be there for you."

She stood up, letting go of Harry's hands, making her way across the room to give him space. Ron lingered behind, his hand still on Harry's shoulder.

"Er, about that…" He coughed awkwardly. "I know Hermione said whatever we're doing but – er – that is—"

Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled inside him, chasing away some of the pain in his chest. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I won't interrupt your snogging sessions with your girlfriend, don't worry. I'll plan my panic sessions well."

Ron gave him a huge grin, patting him on the back before joining his girlfriend, settling down next to her. Harry watched as Ron put his arm around Hermione, his girlfriend instinctively moving closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

Harry felt a pang within him as he watched the scene. He couldn't believe it sometimes – just how in love his friends were. They deserved it – and so much more. They deserved every happiness they could get.

And so did he. And Malfoy.

He settled himself down in his chair, turning his gaze towards the fire and letting his thoughts wonder, mulling over everything he'd said and how Malfoy had responded.

Obviously Malfoy's mother was a sore point. He'd never even thought about the Malfoy family and how they'd come out after the war. After the war he'd sent off a short note to Kingsley, now Minister Kingsley, explaining how Narcissa Malfoy had essentially saved his life and how Malfoy Jr. was just a snivelling coward who had been under duress throughout the entire war.

He'd never have even thought to question whether Narcissa Malfoy was a Death Eater. Did the Ministry know? He snorted to himself, well of course they would have done. She would have told them – anything for a better sentence.

Harry still hated Lucius Malfoy – still wished he'd been locked up in Azkaban. Ron had been outraged when they'd read in the Prophet that he'd been spared Azkaban because he'd 'turned' to their side. Ron had thrown the paper into the fire, declaring the Ministry to be insane and stupid and a whole lot of other negative things.

Harry remembered Ron's grim expression when he'd said that of course Lucius Malfoy would have changed sides – he was a snake and they always slithered away from danger. Harry had agreed at the time but now…now he wasn't sure about anything.

He liked Draco. He could admit that to himself in the maelstrom that was his own mind. He liked him enough to try and help him – everyone deserved help. There was no war anymore, no Good side, no Bad side, no Death Eaters and no Order of the Phoenix. People were just…people. And Harry was learning to accept that – honestly he was – but sometimes the past just intruded.

So he'd called Narcissa Malfoy a Death Eater. And then accused her of torturing Muggles when he'd known,_bloody well known_, that Draco had been Voldemort's favourite little torturer.

When he came out of his thoughts hours later, just as the fire was dying in the hearth, Harry had finally made the decision as to how he was going to proceed.

He was an idiot – and he had to apologise – and there was only one way he could think of that would make a difference. So Harry had sneaked back into the Boys' Dormitories, leaving again with his Invisibility Cloak, a quill, some parchment and a determined look on his face. He was going to make things right – and then grovel.

Lots of grovelling knowing Malfoy but Harry would do it. He had to, if only to stop the ache in his chest.


End file.
